


1962 - Vietnam

by Marcus_Gantry



Series: Photographic Memories [6]
Category: Steam Powered Giraffe
Genre: Derogatory Language, Homophobic Language, Offensive descriptives used in dialog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:42:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27127375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marcus_Gantry/pseuds/Marcus_Gantry
Summary: The Spine has a run-in with non-accepting teammates.
Series: Photographic Memories [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1966084
Kudos: 14





	1962 - Vietnam

"Hold still," The Spine hissed quietly as he carefully pulled the rather large pocket knife from Rabbit's side. "It doesn't look like it hit anything. Just slipped between the sheathing here." He ran his fingers along the armored wiring just under Rabbit's rib cage. Everything feels ok. Diagnostics?"

"All green," whispered Rabbit, then a quiet whimper, but not from pain. "Why? Why would they do this? Here?" 

The Spine was silent as he reattached Rabbit's side carapace cover. He stood and in the dim light Rabbit could see his jaw was set, his green eyes flashing brightly. The knife suddenly snapped in his hands. He threw the pieces into the corner and turned angrily to go.

"Spine...don't..." Rabbit grabbed at his arm to hold him back.

The Spine shook off the restraining hand and exited the tent, scanning the area intently. He saw the four men he sought, four Marines in mechanics coveralls. They were sitting on some low benches near the motor pool, eating rations from cans. He went to them with purpose.

“What have we here?” snarled the Sargent. He stood up and tossed his food can to the side. The Marine was nearly as tall as The Spine and twice his bulk, in appearance. The two stood nose to nose, staring at each other. 

The Spine reached forward quicker than the eye could see, grasping the Marine by the collar with one hand, his other arm cocked back as if to strike. But he didn’t strike. Doing so would likely kill the man. The Sargent smiled wickedly at his hesitation.

“Can’t do it, can ya. You can’t hit me. You can’t hurt me. Cuz accordin’ to the three rules of robotics, you can’t harm a man,” the Sargent gloated.

The Spine’s head tilted down and to the right, averting his eyes momentarily as he accessed memory. The Sargent took it as a concession and tried to pull away, but could not. The Spine looked back over at him from under his eyebrows, his green eyes hard and cold.  
“Those are in a work of fiction. We are in a war zone. You would do well to ponder that.” He let go of the man’s collar and uncoiled his fist. “You will leave Rabbit alone,” he said evenly. The Spine appeared outwardly calm. Inside he was seething.

“And just who is going to make me? You? You skinny-ass puke? It’s bad enough we have to put up with you freaks, but queers to boot?” To his men he said, “ I saw the two of them, hugging, in the same bunk. Not gonna put up with that shit here. Maybe you should both leave. I don’t even know why you’re here. We don’t need you.” He grinned savagely and snapped his fingers. “Maybe it’s for entertainment. I heard you singing to your girlfriend. Sing us a song, puke.” He pushed The Spine hard in the chest. The Spine went with it rather than resisting, taking a step back, unintentionally giving the appearance of weakness. The Sargent stepped forward.

The Spine took another step back. “You will leave Rabbit alone,” he said with finality and turned away.

“Don’t you turn your back on me, puke. If you won’t sing for us, we’ll get her to do it. I’m sure your little friend would sing for us…with a little more…poking, eh boys?” He unsheathed his ka-bar. There were murmurs of agreement from the three men on the benches. He grabbed Spine by the shoulder. “I said sing for us.”

The Spine became a blur of motion. With what sounded like six knives unsheathing, and with simultaneously rending of fabric, the Spine’s dorsal fins erupted through his shirt. He batted the knife from the Sargent’s hand. Grabbing the front of the Sargent’s overalls, he straight-armed the man off the ground. The Sargent found himself looking down, not into green eyes, but eyes flashing blue-white with electric fire. He flailed, choking in the grip of the automaton, pulling at his wrist, kicking, struggling to no avail.

“Oh shit!” yelled one of the men as he jumped back off his bench.  
“Holy hell, what IS that!”  
“Jeezus, look at his eyes. Look at his EYES!” 

The Spine let the charge build beyond nominal capacity, but instead of incinerating the Sargent, he turned his head at the last moment to let the energy blast hit the recently vacated bench. It burst into flaming splinters. All three men dove for cover. 

The Colonel, in his tent across the yard looked up over his morning coffee just as the bench exploded. “Oh Christ!” He threw the cup to the floor. To his aide he yelled, “Get the MPs. Lock down the perimeter. No one, NO ONE is to leave the area.” To a second aide he yelled, “You! Get Walter up here. Fast.” He rushed across the yard, drawing his sidearm. He held the firearm in both hands, aimed low but in the general direction of the Spine. He wasn’t going to shoot him. No, the reality was he was going to have to shoot any soldier who picked up a weapon.

“Spine! Put him down!” The Spine’s green eyes changed to blue-white again. He had never felt this angry. Had never felt this fear for Rabbit’s safety. Had never felt this betrayed by men with whom he was supposed to face a common enemy.  
Another blast erupted, another bench exploded into flaming shards. 

The Colonel was thankful that at least the fire was keeping the men low. He didn’t want to have to shoot.

“Spine! PUT HIM DOWN! NOW!”  
The Sargent’s flailing was becoming weaker. The robot’s eyes started to glow blue again. The Colonel heard footsteps running up behind him. He glanced over his shoulder to see it was Peter Walter.

“SPINE!” yelled Peter. The enraged automaton looked to him. “Spine! Put him down.” Emphatically he added, “Please!”

The rage dissipated. The Spine lowered the Sargent until his feet were on the ground before turning the half-charge blast at the knife. Even just the half charge incinerated the leather handle and blackened the steel blade. Looking to the Sargent with calm green eyes he said levelly, “You will ALL leave Rabbit alone.” He let go of the man, who crumpled into a heap on the ground coughing and gasping for breath. No one moved to help him until the Spine turned and stalked off, back to the tent he shared with Rabbit.

The Colonel took charge of the situation.  
“Walter, you go with Spine, do whatever you have to do to calm him down. You, three, pick up Sargent Dean and bring him to my hooch - and stay there with him.”

Peter Walter followed The Spine into the tent.  
“Spine! Why? Why did you do that?” The Spine ignored him and moved to the back of the tent. Peter could see the dim light glinting off his still-deployed dorsal fins as he knelt down before the bed there. He heard a low cry and realized Rabbit was sitting there. The Spine was holding Rabbit tightly as the small muffled sobs continued.

“Spine?” Peter asked softly.

Without turning, the Spine answered, “They hurt Rabbit today. It’s been nothing but threats since we arrived. Today they went too far.” 

“They hurt an armored warbot?” Peter asked skeptically.

“I was not here when Rabbit decided to do some self-maintenance and removed some armor plating. Inside the perimeter. Among friends.” He patted Rabbit’s shoulder and stood to face Peter.  
“Rabbit should not be here. I should not be here. We have done whatever you have told us to do, gone where you’ve wanted us to go, but this is not what we were built for. If we don’t have the trust of or even a grudging respect from those we are supposed to be defending, what is the point?”

“Is Rabbit okay? Do we need to repair…….”

“I have tended to Rabbit.”

“But those men… you didn’t have to…you didn’t need to engage the Tesla projector.”

“Yes. I did,” the Spine answered calmly. “I was taught to neutralize the enemy. And to kill only when necessary. I have neutralized the threat to Rabbit. Without killing anyone. 

*

Sargent Dean looked at the Colonel. “We need to get back to work.”

“No Sargent, you four will remain here.” He looked at Dean who was still pale and disheveled, a bruise growing around his throat. The other 3 men looked pale and jittery as well. “Everyone was told not to interact with Lieutenants Spine and Rabbit except when specifically ordered to do so. What part of that didn’t you understand?” 

“We were just having some fun,” one of the other men said. Sargent Dean shot him a withering look and he shut up.

“Assaulting a senior officer is not ‘fun’” snarled the Colonel.

Dean cleared his throat. “Sir with all due respect, those…things…are not officers. They’re monsters, not men. Did you…Did you see what he turned into? What he did with his eyes? 

“If top brass says they are, they are. I don’t think you understand what just happened. Your team was selected for a part in an important mission. You have just jeopardized that mission.” The phone rang, interrupting him. The Colonel answered it, speaking tersely, “Yes sir. Yes, I understand. Thank you, sir.” To the four men he said, “Today is your lucky day.”

“We can go?”

“You will be going, yes. It appears Lieutenant Spine has just bought you four tickets stateside.” Two MPs entered the tent. But they didn’t look like normal MPs. Their weapons were carried differently and they were wearing earpieces that coiled down inside their shirt collars. 

“Sir, we don’t want to go home. We came here to fight.”

“Maybe you should have saved that for the enemy.”

Sargent Dean stood up angrily. “I can’t believe you are sending four fighting men home because of those freaks. That…that thing almost killed me.”

“I didn’t say you were going _home,_ ” countered the Colonel. He motioned the MPs forward, two more entered the tent.

“Hands behind your back,” one of the MPs said as he took Sargent Dean by the arm. Dean pulled his arm away.

“No! We haven’t done anything. That robot tried to kill _us!_ You saw him explode those benches with some kind of death ray! _You saw it!”_

The MP succeeded in cuffing the Sargent with minor struggle. The other three men accepted quietly.

“I don't know what you're talking about, Sargent,” said the Colonel as he went over to his desk and sat down. “Robots? Death Rays? That’s crazy talk. I’m sure these fine men here will see you get to complain to the proper authorities.” He nodded to the MPs. They took the men away. He muttered under his breath. “Four men down and we haven’t even started this party yet. And now I have to debrief _everyone._ Great. Just…great….”


End file.
